Author: norain21 / Sara E.
Rating: PG (Just for some of the emotional angst)
Fandom: Hannah Montana
Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana, "True Friends" by Hannah Montana, or anything else you might recognize.
Summary: After Lilly's parents get a divorce, she finds herself depressed and questioning the meaning to life.
A/N: This chapter has an O/C in it. I promise this story wont focus on her too much.
Chapter One Chapter Two
‘How are you’, please ask all the time. I think I hear that question and ‘what’s up?’ about a thousand times a day. The answer is usually ‘fine’ and ‘nothing much’. It’s how everybody answers, even when it’s a lie. If I were to be honest if someone asked me how I am, they would get uncomfortable and say ‘I’m sorry’ and quickly change the subject. I know. I’ve done it myself. Why is it that we can’t be understanding and there for each other?
I think about Hannah Montana’s song “True Friends”, and I wonder if that really applies to the friendship I have with Miley. She said it was inspired by our friendship, but I wonder. You know the secrets I could never tell: those are part of the lyrics. What secrets of Miley’s do I know?
Hmm, well. She says she loves Jake and believes they’ll have a stable, happy relationship one-day. She told me what it was like kissing him for the first time. I don’t know if that counts so much as a secret. She thinks her brother is irresponsible and stupid and is afraid he breaks too many girls hearts. She still thinks its gross that her dad dated that real estate lady woman. A few simple teenage rants.... That’s all the secrets I know. Oh, and of course the secret that she’s Hannah Montana.
Part of me, even though I know it’s not true, feels like Miley isn’t a true friend. Why can’t she see through this mask I’m wearing? Why can’t she see the sadness in my eyes? Why don’t I feel comfortable telling her my secrets? Why am I so afraid?
Right now, I push all of these thoughts away as I get ready for school. I look in the mirror and see that my eyes are red and puffy from crying last night. I don’t know why I was so sad. I just felt so empty, lonely; tired...like I was my only friend. I was the only person who knew or cared about me. I want that feeling to go away!
I brush my blond hair and decide to try to curl my hair. I mean, I really did look good when Miley gave me that makeover. Maybe I could try it again. I can still wear my jeans and a sporty-looking shirt. I plug in my mom’s curling iron and let it heat up. While it does, I start brushing my teeth and washing my face. I can see a zit coming on. Or two. Or... I notice some more small bumps on my forehead. Great! I’m going to turn into a pizza! Or that nerdy kid at school has a thousand zits on his face.... I slam my hand down in frustration and pull it back in pain, “OW. OW. OW. OW. OW!”
I pull my hand up to my face and examine it. Oh it hurts so bad! I slammed it onto the curling iron. That sucker sure heats up fast! “Gosh, Lilly,” I say to my reflection, “why do you have to be such a klutz? You know one of these days; you’re going to be one the cover of the newspaper. ‘Girl dies in freakish accident. Similar to those on Final Destination’”
I finish talking to myself, and take the curling iron to my hair. After ten failed attempts to curl some hair, I unplug it and grab a hat. My mom never really taught me how to be girly. I guess I spent a lot of time with my dad and kind of became a tomboy? I don’t know. I know Miley said my hair has a hard time holding a curl, but she managed to do it.
At school, I see Miley and Oliver talking. I walk up to them, “Hey guys!”
“Hey, what’s up?” Miley asks, grabbing a few books from her locker.
“Nothing much.” I say, just like usual.
“Oh, well, did you hear there’s a new kid at school?”
“Ooooh noooo! Not another bully!” I exclaim, as I open up my own locker next to Miley’s.
“I don’t think so. She seems pretty weird though.”
“I don’t think she’s weird. I think she a hottie!” Oliver says.
Miley and I raise our eyebrows at him, and he shrugs and gives us an innocent look like ‘what’s your deal?’.
As I walk home from school, I see the new girl. She looks like she’s a year or two older than I am. As I look her over, I realize why Oliver thinks she’s so hot. She's got a nice figure. I look down at my own scrawney-self covered in a sporty t-shirt. I never wear clothes that form to my figure.
I soon realize that this new girl and I are headed in the same direction. As I catch up with her I ask, “do you live around here?”
She gives me a questionable look and then nods, “Yeah. Over that way,” she points. My house is in that direction too, so I tell her.
“Wait, do you live in a yellow with green door?” I ask.
“Yeah. I just moved in. Why, do you know the place?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s next door to my house.”
“Oh, well.” She smiles, “my name is Samantha. I guess I’m you’re neighbor.”
“Nice to meet you,” I laugh, “My name is Lilly!”
Samantha and I now walk at the same pace together. She tells me that she used to live in Northern California and just moved to Malibu a few weeks ago. She says she doesn’t have any other siblings and but her mom and dad are together. She’s seventeen and a year behind in school. “I could never grasp anything having to do with math.” She told me.
“What kind of music do you like?” I ask.
“Oh, uhm, all kinds. My favorite bands and artists are,” she gets a funny look in her bright blue eyes and says, “Tilly and the Wall, The Killers, The Beatles, Azure Ray, Alexz Johnson, 3 Doors Down, and Goo Goo Dolls.”
“Oh, cool!” I say, even though I have no idea who those people are. “Well, it looks like we’re home.”
I take a look around and wave goodbye and walk up to my own house.
It was nice meeting someone new. Someone different than what I know. I start to imagine Samantha and I becoming friends. She’s older and different, but she seems fun and interesting. I call Miley and tell her that I met the new girl and she lives right next to us. “Oh boy! Just wait until Oliver finds out.” She laughed.
I don’t tell Miley that my moms out on a date again, that the house feels so empty and I’m scared. I don’t tell her that I want to spend the night, because I feel like I’ve been living at the Stewarts house. I don’t want to bother them any. I don’t tell her that I want to be Samantha’s friend. I don’t tell her that I’m just as empty as this house.